


all the things that i hide when i'm feeling you

by notcaycepollard



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU: Daisy is a vampire, Crack, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I don't, apparently, blood play i guess a bit is a warning?, here is a halloween thing, in my fevered brain, inconvenient vampirism, it's explained by science, total crack fic, yeah that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't want to say it, sir, but... Daisy's a vampire," Jemma says. "Gosh. That sounds quite silly, doesn't it? What a turn-up for science."</p><p>"Daisy's a vampire," Coulson repeats carefully. "So what you're saying is, Daisy's a vampire, and I'm a zombie, what next, is Mack going to turn out a werewolf or what."</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the things that i hide when i'm feeling you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shortitude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/gifts).



> (title credit: FKA Twigs, 'ache')

It takes Coulson what he later thinks is an embarrassingly long time to realize something's not right with Daisy. She looks a little tired, sure, when he sees her, but they're all tired, these days. She's been working long hours trying to put the Secret Warriors team together, to help Jemma normalize, to help Joey learn to control his powers. So, okay, she's a little paler than usual, dark shadows under her eyes, but all that Coulson thinks is,  _Skye's working too hard, I should help her with that_.  _  
_

"Morning," he says sympathetically, presses a cup of coffee into her hand, and she mumbles hello, gives him what he thinks is her usual sleepy smile. (He realizes later that of course she's sleepy; the sun's up.) Her gaze gets a little sharper as she drags her eyes from his face down to his throat, and  _okay_ , maybe that should have clued him in, but it's not like Daisy hasn't looked at him that way before. (Maybe with more heat and less hunger, but honestly, sometimes it's hard to tell.)

Even when she follows him into his office, recoils from the sunlight streaming in through the window, stands in the furthest corner, he thinks,  _yeah, me too, being awake is hard sometimes_ , resolves to pick up more of her case load, because Daisy obviously needs a break. In the brighter light, he can see that she really is pale, and her eyes are darker too, closer to black than the warm brown he's used to.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks her with a little concern, lightly touches her arm, and she blinks, rubs a hand over her face, shakes herself a little.

"I am feeling a little off," she admits. "Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Take the day off," he suggests, "go rest up, there are no urgent missions today and I don't want you sick in the field."

"Hey, thanks," Daisy says, "I think I will, actually," and Coulson resolves to go check in on her later, because actually resting when she's sick has never been a trait he associates with Skye ( _Daisy_ , he thinks,  _damnit, Daisy_ ). When he knocks on her bunk door that afternoon, though, there's no response, and he cautiously pokes his head in the door to find her fast asleep, looking very peaceful. She really must need the rest, he thinks, and gently slides her door closed again.

She doesn't show up for the team meal that evening, and he guesses she must still be asleep. "Can someone take a plate down to Daisy?" he asks, and Hunter nods agreeably, sets down his beer and takes the plate of food Coulson's prepared.

Hunter doesn't come back, and after ten minutes, Coulson thinks that's a bit weird, because his beer's still half-full. People have disappeared from base before.  _Simmons_ disappeared from base before. It's worth investigating. Maybe he just fell asleep too.

Daisy's door is half-open, and he's so,  _so_ not prepared for what he finds. Hunter's lying on the floor and Daisy is sitting over him, a smear of red across her mouth, and Coulson's first thought is  _why did Daisy put red lipstick on just to kiss him_ and his second thought is  _wait, no, Hunter's unconscious_ and his third thought is  _Daisy, what the_ fuck  _is going on_.

"Daisy, what the  _fuck_ is going on," he demands, and she jerks back, looks up at him with alarm.

"I-" she says, and apparently Coulson's voice was loud enough that the rest of the team heard, because they're all crowding into the corridor now, and Mack makes an alarmed noise.

"Tremors," he says slowly, "did you  _eat Hunter_?"

"I only ate Hunter a little bit!" Daisy says defensively, and then also looks alarmed at herself. "Oh, god."

"Oh god is right," Coulson agrees, "you  _ate Hunter_?"

"Only a little bit! He'll be fine!" she says, but pushes herself away from him anyway until she's sitting with her back leaned against her bunk. "Can someone - he  _is_ going to be fine, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Bobbi says reassuringly, "he's coming round now, come on, Hunter, that's it, head between the knees."

"What," Hunter says flatly, and Mack laughs.

"Apparently our girl Daisy figured you were a tasty snack," he tells Hunter, and this is way too weird a conversation for Coulson. 

"Oh, sure, just bloody well drained me of my vital fluids, that's fucking great, why is it always me? Bloody ridiculous."

"Hunter. Do you hear yourself. Stop talking," Bobbi says, and when Coulson glances at Daisy again, he notes with alarm that her eyes have widened at the mention of blood.

"I would really like to know what's going on here," he says out loud, "because what I  _think_ is going on here is definitely  _not_ what's going on, right? Someone tell me I'm right." Coulson shouldn't feel  _jealous_ about the fact that Skye -Daisy- just totally ate Hunter. That would be wrong. That would be  _totally wrong_. But isn't it kind of intimate? Daisy should be getting intimate with  _his_ jugular, not Hunter's, he thinks, and frowns very hard at himself. 

"I, ah, I'll need to run some bl- some  _tests_ ," Jemma says faintly, "but, sir, based on all the evidence..."

"Pale skin, drinking bl- I mean, feeding  _from people_ , darker eyes," Fitz chimes in helpfully.

"Aversion to sunlight," Coulson adds thoughtfully, and Daisy winces.

"I don't want to say it, sir, but... Daisy's a vampire," Jemma says. "Gosh. That sounds quite silly, doesn't it? What a turn-up for science."

"Daisy's a vampire," Coulson repeats carefully. "So what you're saying is, Daisy's a vampire, and I'm a zombie, what next, is Mack going to turn out a werewolf or what."

"I hope not," Mack mutters, and Coulson thinks,  _how did my life get this way_ , and then,  _fuck, Skye should not look this hot with bloodstains on her mouth, that's just wrong_.

"I guess, uh, containment?" he offers. "Daisy, you... maybe, the vault, for now, it's the most non-sunlight secure option I can think of. Also, um, you might want to wash your face. Sorry."

"Oh sure," Hunter complains. "Say sorry to the woman who's  _got my blood on her faaaa..._ whoa, uh, okay, Daisy, ease off." Daisy blinks, closes her mouth over impressively sharp eyeteeth, backs off a couple of steps.

"Right," Coulson says, with what he hopes is authority. "No using the B-word. And containment. And Fitzsimmons, please,  _please_ tell me you can figure this out."

 

+

 

Apparently Coulson's presence in the lab makes Jemma and Fitz and Bobbi "nervous" (although Coulson suspects Bobbi isn't nervous at all, and just taking the fall for the other two) so he goes down to the vault to check on Daisy instead. She's sitting on the bed looking miserable, and he feels a yearning to take the grid down, step into the cell with her.  _It can't be that bad_.  _She only ate Hunter a little bit._ He holds back, steps up to the grid and gives her what he hopes is a sympathetic look.

"How're you feeling?"

"Hungry," she admits, "or thirsty, I guess, and I'm really sorry about Hunter, honestly."

"He'll be fine," Coulson tells her, "we've got him under observation in the quarantine room just in case, but it wasn't really much more than a blood donation," and then he steps back hastily, because Daisy's gone from sitting on the bed to up against the grid, her gaze locked on him, and he can  _see_ the points of her teeth, the way she's running her tongue over them just a little.

"Coulson..." she says, and her voice is low and breathless and  _wanting._ He blinks, and Daisy moans, and god,  _god_ , it's such a good sound. He wants to hear more. "Coulson, I'm so thirsty," she whispers, and he imagines her mouth on him, on his throat, the way she'd slide her fingers into his hair and run her tongue across his skin and  _bite_ , and fuck it, he can let the grid down, right? 

"Hi," Fitz calls, tromping down the stairs, "we haven't figured it out yet, but I thought you might need a top-up, so we, we, pooled together, it should keep you going." He's carrying a plastic blood transfusion bag, and Coulson blinks again, frowns a little.  _Blood. Right. Don't say the B-word. Especially when Daisy's thirsty._ Daisy looks like she's pulling herself together too, steps back from the invisible grid and smiles hopefully at Fitz.

"Are you making progress, at least?" she asks. "Because, uh, historically not great with being cooped up like a lab rat, here."

"I don't know," Fitz admits. "Yes? I think so? We cured the Chitauri thing. I'm sure we'll work this out too." He takes the tablet off Coulson, taps the controls to open the small hatch and slides in the transfusion bag along with a glass of water. Daisy grabs it, looks up at them a little warily.

"Could you, um, maybe turn around? This is, like, super weird."

"Oh! Oh, sure!" Coulson says, and hastily turns his back. "You really think you're making progress?" he asks Fitz softly, and Fitz nods.

"Yeah, Jemma's got some theories. That mission we went on a couple of days ago, when she and Mack came into contact with the Inhuman girl who seemed sick. It could be a, a contagion, or something, Hunter's not showing any signs of it, so maybe it's just something that affects Inhumans."

"I'm done," Daisy calls, and they turn around. She's got a smudge of blood on her lower lip, and again, Coulson thinks, god, what is wrong with him, why is that  _attractive_. _  
_

"Was that... okay?" Fitz asks, his face a picture in carefully-masked revulsion, and Daisy laughs.

"Like the grossest juice box ever. Except, also, really great. So, okay. Super weird. But okay. Less thirsty, at least. Thanks, Fitz."

"No problem," he tells her, "I'd better get back to the lab, Jemma and Bobbi will want to know that it worked. Director." 

"I, um, should also let you sleep," Coulson says hastily, realizing they're alone in the vault again. "Now that you're not thirsty."

"Phil," Daisy says, and the tone of her voice curls heat up his spine. "I said,  _less_ thirsty. Not  _not_ thirsty." She runs her tongue over her lip, finds the drop of blood and licks it off with a hum of satisfaction, and Coulson can only watch. His mouth is dry at the sight.

"Skye," he says softly, and she groans.

"Daisy," she replies, "it's  _Daisy_ , Phil."

"Daisy," he agrees, "right. You need to rest. You're sick."

"No," she argues, "I'm just a monster," and Coulson's heart hurts at that, because god, Daisy's fought so hard not to be a monster, not to feel like a monster.

"You're not a monster," he tells her. "Even if you're after my blood. You're not a monster. You're just  _Daisy_ , and I- that won't change, for me." He'd press a hand to the barrier if it weren't a laser grid, wishes it was the glass of quarantine so he could at least make the gesture.

"Oh," Daisy says softly. "Okay. Phil. Can you, uh, give me a minute? Or, like, a little more? I need some... I just need some time."

"Yeah," Coulson agrees. "Get some rest, Daisy."

 

+

 

Jemma and Bobbi and Fitz are intent on working around the clock, figuring out what's affecting Daisy, and he has to order them to sleep for a few hours before they'll take a break. When he checks on Daisy mid-afternoon, she's deep asleep. Nocturnal, he thinks, averse to sunlight, that makes sense, in the scheme of things that make no sense at all. 

He sits and waits, watches her sleep, and it's not so very different to all the times he's done this before, all the times she's been transformed by death and serum and terrigen crystal mists. This, he hopes, this is reversible. The other times haven't been, he knows, but-

Daisy jerks awake, and Coulson knows the sun has set. She doesn't sit up, just rolls onto her side, pillows her face on one hand and looks at him steadily. "Phil," she whispers eventually, swallows and licks her lips.

"If I come in," he says softly. "Can I come in?"

"Will I attack you?" Daisy asks, and makes a complicated face. "I don't know, Coulson, I'm really thirsty, and there's something about your blood that's different from the others, and you- I can  _feel_ you, did you know that? My vibrations haven't gone. I can feel every heartbeat. Every pulse in your veins." Coulson's heart rate speeds up, and he glances up at her. "Yeah," she says softly, "yeah, Phil, I can feel all of it."

 _Fuck it_ , he thinks, and stands up, powers down the grid, walks into her space. Daisy stays lying down, holds herself very still, until he sits down on the bed next to her, and then she sits up in a movement so fast it's hard to understand.  _Heightened reflexes_ , he files away in the category marked "what even is going on", and then she trails a finger lightly down his jaw. He expects her to be cold, but she's just as warm as usual, the kind of warmth that's reassuring, and oh, she's leaning in so close, and her fingertips are pressed against the artery in his throat. 

"You shouldn't have come in," she says huskily, and Coulson shrugs. 

"I knew what I was doing," he tells her, "it was my call to make."

"So  _stupid_ , Phil," Daisy says, and there's a hint of fondness in her voice. "Do you know what I could do to you, like this." She's even closer, and her mouth is hovering over his, and Coulson aches for her. He knows she can feel it all, knows she must be able to hear the blood coursing through him, and it feels like his body is screaming for her to touch him. 

"You said my blood is different," he says with effort, "don't you want to know why? Or how? There's only one way to test that."

"Oh," Daisy breathes. "Oh," and brushes her lips to his very lightly. He can feel the sharp edge of her teeth against his lower lip. "Yeah, Phil," she sighs, "let me make this good for you," and she slides a hand up into his hair just as he'd imagined she might, licks across his lip, pulls his hair to tilt his head and expose the line of his throat. Coulson can't help it; he moans, and the noise makes Daisy growl. 

"Please," he whispers, and she lowers her mouth to his throat and bites, and it's maybe the best thing he's ever,  _ever_  felt. 

"Hey, great news - oh, for fuck's sake," he hears Bobbi say, from the stairs, and the noise of an ICER shot, and then Daisy is slumping against him, unconscious, his blood wet on her mouth, and Coulson might never have been so embarrassed in his life. 

 

+

 

Daisy manages to look abashed and not sulky when she comes round, carefully wipes her mouth, and Coulson doesn't know how she's so calm, because  _he_  definitely feelssulky along with his embarrassment. 

"What did you even think you were  _doing_ , sir?" Bobbi demands, "you put Daisy in containment for a reason, for all you knew she could have killed you, it was totally reckless."

"Can we get back to the part where there's great news?" Daisy asks, "because if it's 'great news, Daisy, we can cure your inconvenient vampirism', that would be really excellent right now, okay."

"Well, you're in luck!" Jemma says cheerfully, "our tests came in and it turns out it is just a virus. Possibly something engineered by the Kree to affect Inhumans? In any case, a few days of these vitamin D shots and iron supplements and you'll be right as rain."

"I can come out of isolation?" Daisy says hopefully, and Jemma nods.

"You might be a bit light-sensitive for a day or two, but you're perfectly safe to be around the rest of us, so long as there are no more, ah,  _incidents_." Daisy actually blushes, which is more obvious than usual against the pallor of her skin, and Coulson clears his throat.

"But, uh, why... if it was a virus, that doesn't explain why Daisy was able to..." Bobbi gives him a look, and he quails.

"To glamor you?" she says slyly. "To  _seduce_ you?"

"It wasn't like that!" Daisy squeaks, and Coulson shifts.

"It... was a bit like that," he admits. "And you said my blood was different, right?"

"Well, yeah," she says, looking uncomfortable. Jemma frowns.

"I'd have to run more tests, but if I were guessing, sir, it'd be the GH-325. It makes sense that Daisy would be drawn to your blood, if it's closer to what her body needs. As for the glamor, well, did it work on Hunter?"

"I  _did not glamor Hunter_ , thank you," Daisy says firmly. "He knocked on my door and I drop-kicked him. Which, okay, that's not  _better_ , but there was no glamoring or seducing involved." Jemma and Bobbi share a really eloquent glance, and Coulson has a premonition of what they're about to say next.

"Well..." Jemma says eventually. "I, ah... maybe that wasn't actually the  _virus_ , then."

"What," Coulson says.

"Maybe you just, erm, wanted to put... your mouth... in the vicinity of her mouth. Sir. You know what? We don't need to have this discussion."

"Oh, but we so do," Bobbi teases, and then, thank god, she leaves them alone, although not before raising an eyebrow way more suggestively than Coulson is comfortable with. (She interrupted them... well, he doesn't  _know_ what he he and Daisy were doing, actually, but Bobbi interrupted them while they were doing it, so he guesses she's allowed to raise that eyebrow, actually.)

"Thank god," Daisy sighs, "it's a relief to know I'm not a permanent vampire as well as an Inhuman, that would really suck." She gives him a hopeful look, and he groans at the pun. Daisy smiles, looking pleased, and wow, yeah, her teeth are still extremely sharp-looking, and Phil  _shouldn't be attracted_ but he is, he so is. "Oh Phil," she whispers, and he remembers that she can feel his vibration, his heartbeat, and that means his attraction is entirely readable right now.

"I should, uh, I have to - go do... a thing," he tells her, and leaves the room, and he might not have any powers but he can practically hear Daisy staring after him. It doesn't take precognition to know she's going to find him again, he thinks, but the  _lab_ is not the place for it.

 

+

 

Daisy finds him in his office, instead, and she's showered and put on a clean pair of jeans, a black t-shirt that dips low. Her hair is still damp, and he can see she's got a little more color in her cheeks, but the way she stands in front of him, close enough to touch, the way she looks at him, she still feels dangerous. It's  _beautiful_.

"Daisy," he says, sitting back, and she opens her mouth, presses her tongue against what Coulson's brain is very insistently calling  _fangs_. "Are you... feeling better?"

"No," she says. "I'm feeling thirsty. And thinking we have unfinished business."

"You're not glamoring me," Coulson points out, and Daisy smiles.

"No, I'm not. But don't you want to, what was it, put your mouth in the vicinity of my mouth? I think you do,  _Phil_." His heart is hammering in his chest, and he knows Daisy knows, and he can't hold back any more, he reaches out for her, grabs her by the hip, pulls her in and down. This time, the kiss isn't a light brush of lips, it's hard, bruising and sharp, and he breathes into it, tangles his fingers in her hair and kisses harder, sucks her lip into his mouth and grazes it with his own teeth. Daisy makes a noise that's all want and lust, climbs into his lap and grinds into him, and sparks flare in his brain at how good it feels.

"God, Daisy," he groans, and she laughs, rolls her hips in a long slow tease.

"Are you going to take me to bed, or are we just going to do this right here," she asks, and Coulson leans in, kisses her collarbone, the bare skin of her chest.

"Bed," he says against her skin, "yeah, bed, that's-" His quarters are close to his office, and he's never been so glad, because even the few steps feel too long, except as soon as they get into his room, Daisy's on him again, and this time, when she kisses just below his jaw, she bites, just a little. "Fuuuuuuuck," he sighs, and feels her smile.

"Phil Coulson, you are such a sucker for dangerous women, aren't you," she murmurs, begins to unbutton his shirt, and he tugs her t-shirt off. The touch of her bare skin is almost enough to make him short-circuit; Daisy wasn't wrong, he's  _desperate_ , and he wants, he wants so badly. She's unbuckling his belt, now, tugging down his jeans, and fuck,  _fuck_ , the noise of his heart must be roaring in her ears.

"Please," he says again, and Daisy considers him for a moment, pushes him down on the bed, slowly and deliberately strips off her own jeans.

"How good can you be for me, huh," she asks, and Coulson thinks,  _very good, I'll be the best, just let me show you_. Daisy gives him a gorgeous look, settles herself above his face, and Coulson has to close his eyes for a moment, because this is too much, this is too good. He presses his mouth to her, licks a long stroke up against her clit, and she moans, arches into it. Coulson grabs her thigh, digs his fingers in, and eats her out in earnest, listening to every moan and gasp and cry, and when Daisy comes apart, shudders through a loud orgasm, he thinks he might come too just from how spectacularly hot it is.

She doesn't hold back afterwards, just slides down his body straight onto his cock, and Coulson swears again, throws his head back, and Daisy sets her mouth on his throat. _  
_

"Ask," she says, "if you want this then ask," and Coulson begs, immediately, without shame.

" _Please_ ," he whispers, "god, Skye, Daisy, yeah, please,  _please_ ," and Daisy rolls her hips again, fucks him slowly, sinks her teeth in, and he's gone, he's absolutely gone, this is  _definitely_ the best thing of his life. It's all hot skin and the sharp edge of pain melting into a perfect, perfect ache, and he loses himself in it for what feels like forever.

"Phil," Daisy whispers, after a long moment, and she's still pressed against him, stroking a hand down his chest. "Hey, Phil, you feeling okay?"

"I...  _yeah_. Fuck. Yes.  _Fuck_ yes," he gets out, drags his hand down her back. "That. That was. Intense."

"Uh huh," she agrees, rests her head on his shoulder. "I... god, Phil, yeah, this, maybe Jemma was right. I think I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Before inconvenient vampirism?" he asks, and his voice is husky like he's been screaming. Maybe he has.

" _Way_ before inconvenient vampirism," Daisy laughs. "I, uh, can we do it again? Once it wears off and I don't do weird stuff with your blood during sex?"

"Yes," Phil manages, " _yes_ , but speak for yourself, I kind of like the weird blood stuff."

"You do just like dangerous women," she teases, "but don't worry, I'll bite you any time you like, and remember, I can hear your heartbeat  _all the time_ , Phil."

"Oh," he says, " _oh,_ " and Daisy smiles wider.

"Yeah, "oh", Phil. When your heart speeds up every time I walk into a room? Flattering. But  _extremely_ obvious. How long were you going to wait?" _  
_

"Forever," he sighs, "probably, so I guess the vampirism wasn't so inconvenient after all."

"Hmm," Daisy murmurs, "guess not. You up for round two?" and god, yes,  _yes_ , Phil's up for everything Daisy suggests, forever.

**Author's Note:**

> look, I, just, I can explain
> 
> (my tumblr dash had an intersection of AOS posts and twilight revival new improved flavour femmepire posts and spooky halloween spooky posts and this just happened, okay)
> 
> (i regret nothing)
> 
> follow me on tumblr if you want: notcaycepollard.tumblr.com


End file.
